


by any name

by machi_kun



Series: iron and silk [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: 5+1 Things, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, Growing Up Together, M/M, MIT Era, Nicknames, POV James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 09:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18029453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machi_kun/pseuds/machi_kun
Summary: Tony calls him ‘mine’, sometimes.And he also calls him platypus, honeybear, sugarplum, all those stupid nicknames; but James’ favorite will always be ‘mine’.





	by any name

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like a day so it's not the best or the most in character thing I've ever written, but you know what? I need more Iron Husbands in my life. So here I am, writing the fic I want to see in the world.
> 
> This will be the first of a little headcanon-based series. Every single fic in it will explore a different detail I love about Rhodey's and Tony's relationship, and they all fit loosely into _this_ story's timeline, and the gaps between each scene will be filled with the next fics, expanding on the scenes we only get hints of it this story. It's like unveiling the the progression of their relationship through the years bit by bit. 
> 
> The prompt for this one is, very obviously, **nicknames**. I just love Tony's nicknames for Rhodey, man. I couldn't resist it.

**One.**  


The very first nickname is _horrible._

No, not horrible; It’s perfectly normal, a lot of people say the same thing to their friends – but the way it happens is horrible, and it’s one of those nights James will never forget, one he wishes he could erase or stop it from happening, because it is sad, it’s bitter, and it should have never happened in the first place.

They’re young then, and James still hasn’t learned yet.

But this is how he starts to.

Tony is in the lab, as he’s been for the last three days, living only on milkshakes and protein bars he hides all over the room – and since no-one can ever find his secret stash, not even the Electronics guys that spend almost as much time down here as he does, there’s nothing they can do about his terrible eating habits but watch and sigh as he refuses to ingest anything else. Believe me, James has tried. Also, it’s Monday, and James is pretty sure that Tony is supposed to be in class – but instead he’s here, sitting on the floor and messing around with an old engine, parts scattered all around him in a neat semi-circle, and a toolbox open to his left.

The parts look neatly organized, arranged by size and function, with logic and precision – which is a shocking contrast to how _awful_ Tony himself looks.

He _has not_ showered. James will bet all the money in his wallet on that – not that he has much on him after the weekend party, but… You know, it’s the principle of the thing –, because there’s _no way_ Tony would look like this big of a mess unless he hasn’t been down here for a ridiculously long amount of time. He has a huge stripe of grease on his left cheek, from the top of his chin to his cheekbone, and it looks old, kind of dry and sticky, and it’s gotta smell bad. He doesn’t seem to mind it. His hair is sticking out in all directions, his eyes are wide and slightly red, irritated for sure, and his skin has a less than healthy hue to it, something yellowy and worrying.

James is immediately concerned.

“Hey.” James calls when Tony doesn’t turn around to look at him at the sound of the door opening. “You okay?”

Tony makes a tiny sound, a weird grumble, and James realizes he is chewing on something, and he merely speaks around it instead of swallowing it or spitting it out. “Hey, Rhodes.”

Right now, they aren’t at that point in their friendship where James would feel comfortable enough to haul Tony over his shoulder and drag him back to the room to sleep and eat properly, although James would do it, if Tony was enough of a little shit to push him to it – but they _are_ at a point where James gets crazy concerned about this boy, that is only a few years younger but looks far more than that, skinny and short, with pouty lips and doe eyes that make him look so damned naïve when he’s supposedly the brightest person in MIT right now.

Which he is. Probably. James hasn’t gone around comparing notes, to be honest.

But he would not be surprised if that were the case. Not at all.

This is more than enough proof. There he is, looking like death warmed over, and James is visibly getting anxious and worried over him – and he is faking nonchalance. Like it’s something he’s used to. Like it’s no big deal.

Normal people don’t do that. But again, Tony Stark is not ‘normal people’.

“You know how long you’ve been down here, right?” James asks, casually, but his eyes sharp on Tony’s figure.

“Uh.” Tony says, eloquently. “Not really.”

“Three days.” James tells him. “Which means you haven’t slept, eaten, or done anything but work in three days.”

“That’s not true. I’ve slept. I’ve eaten.” Tony counters, but he doesn’t have the necessary energy to make it sound as indignant as he wanted to.

“Where? When?”

“Down here. In my bed, once or twice.”

“Bullshit.” James says, with complete certainty. “I’ve been here the entire weekend, I didn’t see you at all until now.”

After all, they share a room. If anyone would’ve seen Tony, it would’ve been him.

“You were out.” Tony unhelpfully replies.

“ _When?_ ” James insists, not believing Tony’s story for one second.

“Saturday night, I think?” Tony frowns.

Oh. James _had_ been gone. Every Saturday he calls his mom and talks to her for a bit, like clockwork, because both him and his mom are creatures of habit and it’s _their time_ , the time James has reserved for her now that going to choir with her every Sunday isn’t possible anymore, and James never misses it or skips it, unless it’s a life or death situation.

Which has never happened yet, but he’s a methodic guy, that’s all he’s saying.

And Tony knows that. James likes his routine, and Tony most definitely had been paying attention. That does not mean he’d been in the room while James was out – it just means he knows _when_ James might’ve been out, and James has no way of proving Tony really wasn’t there, and Tony is taking advantage of that knowledge.

The clever little bastard.

“I was gone for twenty minutes.” James points out, also knowing Tony has no way of rebuking that unless he’d actually been in the room while James was gone.

“I nap fast.” Tony shrugs, not convincing at all.

James waits for him to elaborate, to _at least_ flesh out his ridiculous excuse a little further, but he doesn’t. So, when he keeps silent and James gets way too uncomfortable to let it continue, he asks:

“Why are you down here?”

“Working.” Tony repeats mechanically.

The total lack of cooperation in his voice is chilly and honestly a little frightening.

“I’m serious, Tony.” James insists, starting to feel really concerned about Tony’s closed off posture, by the way he very deliberately keeps himself turned around, with his eyes glued to the engine before him. “Did something happen? At the party?”

“No, it was a great party.” Tony replies, emotionless.

So, not the party, then. But still, not entirely far off, James thinks. Tony has been down here ever since the weekend, and he can’t help but think the two incidents might be related.

“I didn’t even see you there, there were so many people.” James comments off-handedly, wondering if a more casual tone will make Tony feel more compelled to fill the silence.

Tony hums in a non-committed manner.

“Got the chance to meet a lot of people around the campus, right?” James asks, but it’s not really a question.

“Sure did.”

_Nothing._

“Met anyone interesting?”

Tony shrugs, and it’s not natural at all, and something is very, very wrong.

Something went down. Something bad.

James doesn’t like it.

You see, James is not exactly familiar with Tony Stark, but he can think of some reasons why a boy like him could have gotten into some trouble at that party. James hasn’t heard anything bad, not really, but the nagging feeling at the back of his head, the odd, dreadful sensation that _something_ must’ve happened when he wasn’t looking, it doesn’t leave him and he doesn’t like it. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know Tony Stark all that well yet. James isn’t one to just overlook bad things when they happen. He’s a very protective guy. And sue him, alright? – Tony Stark is not that much younger, but he is _younger_ , and he feels a little lonely, a little awkward, like he still hasn’t grown enough to completely fill the shoes everyone is expecting his to fill, and James wouldn’t wish this kind of pressure on anyone.

Tony Stark has been down here, alone, for the past three days, and _no one_ has come for him.

Only James.

And now, James will make it his mission to help Tony Stark, if that’s what it takes.

“Alright, let’s go.” James says, and it is lighthearted, but his voice makes very clear it’s not optional. “You’re going to bed.”

“What? No, I’m not.” Tony complains, furrowing his brows.

“C’mon.” James complains. “You really wanna be down here when there’s a perfectly comfortable bed upstairs _and_ I’ve bought those Italian things you like? The sweet ones?”

 _That_ makes him stop, and James almost wants to sigh in frustration, because _really?_

All this talk, all this trying to get him to respond, and it’s _food_ that makes him give a crap about James has to say?

James has been trying to get him to eat properly for… he doesn’t even know how long. When did that incident with the coffee mug happened? The first week? The second? He can’t even remember – But _no_ , Tony Stark doesn’t give a shit about healthy food, but you mention some sweets and snacks and _suddenly,_ he’s eager to move?

“What flavor?” Tony asks, and he has never sounded more like the teenager he is than right now.

“Blueberry.” James says, because he pays attention. He noticed the blueberry ones are Tony’s favorites, and he bought them when he went to the store, because he’s a good roommate, and they were on sale, and _it couldn’t hurt, right?_

Tony hesitates for a long, awkward second, but then he sighs and says:

“Fine.”, He drops the wrench. “I’m going, I’m going.”

But he doesn’t get up.

“That doesn’t look like going to me.” James prods, because he can be a little shit too, if he wants to.

“I’ll be right upstairs, _dad._ ”

And that joke – it sounds a little too bitter, a little too sharp, and James doesn’t know yet, but he will, soon enough, learn why it sounds like that. He’ll learn a lot more about Tony Stark, about what happened at the party, about what happened in his life before that, after this day.

But for now, he takes the misguided bitterness, and ignores it.

Just for now.

For now, he nods and turns around, trying to show Tony that he’ll trust him on this, will trust him to keep his word and follow him upstairs, because James has reached out, and now Tony has to meet him halfway, or else, this will all be for nothing.

Tony is, in fact, upstairs less than half an hour later, and James totally wasn’t counting the time and checking the clock over and over again, only pretending to read the magazine in his hands and not at all sneaking glances at the door from his very awkward, very uncomfortable position in the bed.

He has showered and changed, although James has no idea how he has gotten fresh clothes, and he looks a little better. His hair is still wet and his hoodie is rumpled, and he is thin, and James, immediately, decides that Italian sweets are not gonna cut it.

“You know what?” James asks. “How do you feel about going to that place two blocks down? The Italian one?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, and it’s amazing how much sass he can muster to convey with only this tiny reaction. “I thought you had given up trying to fatten me up?”

“Not everything is about you, Tony.” James mocks back, completely pretending this _isn’t_ about Tony right now. “I feel like eating some _carbonara_.”

Tony makes a face.

“Really? The most boring kind of pasta ever, that’s what you want?”

“You keep insulting my pasta choices and I’m not taking you with me.”

“Fine.” Tony says, like it’s a hardship, like he is not fighting off a smile. “But we’re also getting coffee later.”

And the sneaky little shit will probably try to make him pay for both - not becaus ehe can't afford it, because he can, and he probably will pay James back anyway, but just because he wants to be a difficult, annoying brat.

It’s alright.

It’s a step closer to Tony Stark.

James feels like he can make a concession this time.

 

**_Two._ **

When they do get close enough to justify nicknames, James immediately regrets it.

Not in a _I wish I had never allowed this_ kind of way, but in a _oh God, this is my life now, isn’t it?_ kind of way.

There’s a difference. The difference is that as much as Tony Stark is insufferable sometimes, James really likes the guy. Truly.

He really is as smart as everyone says, maybe more. Definitely more. And he’s fun, and he’s surprisingly kind and genuinely tender, and even he is a bit of a dick, James likes it.

But the nicknames, though. The nicknames are… _something_ , to say the least.

The first very stupid nickname comes out of nowhere, in an otherwise perfectly normal afternoon, while James is sitting by the desk with for textbooks open and a pile of sticky notes and a terrifying mountain of reports and research papers and other school stuff that James is starting to feel like he wants to set on fire because he can’t stand to look at it anymore.

That’s when it happens.

It happens when Tony walks in, with a spring to his step and a sly smile on his lips, and he talks closer with the same subtlety as a freaking tank, and all but drapes himself across the back of James’ chair, like a cat stretching on top of a surface he knows he shouldn’t have been on.

“Rhodey.” Tony drawls, all fake innocence. “My kind, good friend. My best buddy of all time. My sweet, dear lemonpie—"

“Don’t you ever call me that,” James interrupts, rolling his eyes, but he’s so exhausted from studying he doesn’t even sound biting, he just sounds tired. “ _Ever._ ”

“What, ‘best buddy’?”

James gives him his most unamused look he can muster – which, after months of exposure to Tony’s particular brand of fake coyness and manipulative puppy dog eyes, he’d say is quite effective.

“What did you do?” James asks.

“I didn’t do anything.” Tony replies, and he doesn’t sound like he’s lying, but it also doesn’t sound like he’s saying the whole truth either.

“Ok, then what do you _want_?”

Tony shrugs lightly, but his eyes are sharp. “It’s nothing dangerous.”

“You’re not really helping yourself, here.” James sighs, and leans back as Tony straightens up and walks around him, leaning against the desk with his hip, at ease and confident. “Alright. Tell me.”

Tony makes a curious hum, looking at James for a considerate second, before asking:

“How do you feel about going to Chicago for the weekend?”

James frowns, confused. “We have an exam on Monday.”, he says, but it’s not really a complaint, just a soft reminder, because this really seems to have come out of nowhere.

“And we’ll be back by then.” Tony affirms.

“How would we even get to Chicago, Tony?”, he asks, which is not the right question, because the right question would be to ask _why_ , not _how,_ but James is becoming so used to going with the flow of whatever craziness Tony throws his way that he’s not even thinking about what he’s saying before he does.

Tony grins maliciously as he says:

“I can get us the Thunderbird.”

And damn if the kid doesn’t know _exactly_ how to rustle James’ feathers because oh God, James _loves_ the Thunderbird.

“Your dad won’t notice it’s gone?” James asks, concerned, but the tiny spark of interest inside him is awake now, and he can’t trample it down easily.

Normally, James wouldn’t encourage any sort of thing that might get his friends in trouble, especially when that friend’s father is Howard Stark – but Howard Stark honestly can go screw himself, and James tries not to get in trouble, but he’s not _immune_ to adrenaline every once in a while.

“He’s out until next Friday, congress in Vienna.” Tony smiles mischievously. “So, you’re in?”

He really, really wants to be.

James tries not to think much about what it says about him that he’s actually eager to say yes, to just get away from school for one damned weekend, to not worry about his exams and grades, to just have some quiet, fun time with his friend, and to drive the _Thunderbird_ he _dreams_ about, and just… Let go, for a while. James loves the MIT and his classes, but good God, he could use a break. Tony too, obviously.

But he doesn’t say yes. Not yet.

Well, not _exactly._

“Hm.” He hums, intrigued. “And what exactly are we going to do in Chicago?”

Tony smiles, broad and jubilant, eyes gleaming, and James knows that it doesn’t matter that he didn’t _say it_ , Tony heard his ‘yes’, loud and clear.

 

**_Three._ **

James gets used to it pretty quickly. It’s not like he can get Tony to _stop._

Honestly? He doesn’t mind as much as he though he would.

Tony is just being his overly-familiar, a little exasperating, full of mirth and energy and slightly annoying self. James is fine with it. He likes that Tony is so comfortable with him, actually, though he’d never say it out loud because he doesn’t want to _hear it_ for the rest of his life, but yeah. He doesn’t complain anymore.

So, naturally, Tony gets cocky with it.

The variety would be impressive, if they weren’t all goddamn ridiculous.

After the first food-related one – _lemonpie_ , which is just… awful –, he goes absolutely wild. Sugarplum, peach cakes, _sweet pudding_ in one dreadful occasion, and the list only goes on from there.

How does he come up with all that stuff? James has no idea.

The point is: Tony doesn’t have many boundaries. Not with him, at least. And to be fair, is not like James hasn’t seen this coming, hasn’t _encouraged it_ , in some ways. He likes having a less than conventional friendship with this less than conventional guy. It’s only fitting. James isn’t one to dwell on boundaries or limits on his personal relationships when he already spends so much time worrying about those things in his professional environment, and he doesn’t care if Tony is a little outrageous or a little _too much_ from time to time. James finds it very hard not to be amused when Tony is flirty or manic or purposefully inappropriate, because it’s so good to have someone around that doesn’t give a damn about being proper and polite, even if does make him insane sometimes, to contrast with the dull, strict conversation he most of the time has during his service back at the base.

James does like sass and spite. The air force couldn’t ever get that out of him, not even if they tried.

But sometimes, not always, but _sometimes_ , it happens something like this:

“You know…” Tony murmurs, his voice a little slurred, in that tone that James by know has learned Tony uses when he’s trying to be _persuasive_ , mostly in a _sexual_ and _inappropriate_ way. He has to stand very close to be heard over the voices of everyone in the gigantic ballroom, but he didn’t really need to throw his arm around James’ shoulders and pull him closer, but he did it anyway. “You could come with us.”

“What?” James asks, still lowering his glass from his lips, a little distracted.

“You see… The lady over there thinks you’d be good company.” Tony says in an unnecessarily dramatic manner, gesturing to the beautiful blond woman close by, in her flowy dark dress and smoldering eyes, and the way her lips are stretched into a sly smile hide nothing of her intentions. “And lucky for you, I can put on a good word for you, and maybe we can all have some fun, hm?”

And it might be too much alcohol talking through him – he’s not _drunk,_ not at all, but _something_ must’ve made him reply the way he did, because he says:

“I’m also a little busy, if you haven’t noticed?” James reminds him, and he discreetly point out to the gorgeous redhead he’d been talking to for the past hour, whose lingering touches on his forearm are also blatant invitation for a very pleasant night, but – but it’s not an outright _no._

Tony looks at the woman, and he _does_ have that appreciative glint in his eyes as his gaze sweeps along her frame, and she looks back and _winks_ at him, not ashamed and perfectly aware of the implications that go unspoken between them.

“Well.” Tony says, slowly, as his eyes snap back to James’ with intensity and purpose. “The more the merrier.”

And that’s what James means when he says _a little too much_ , because he knows Tony is flirty and likes sleeping around, and he openly jokes about it, but it doesn’t _always_ feel like entirely a joke.

It does, but not fully.

It feels like _you can back out, no hard feelings, but I’m hoping you’ll say yes._

And even though James doesn’t mind it, _really doesn’t_ , he still hesitates over that line.

“I think I might pass the offer this time, Tones.” James replies, and if he sounds a little sorry, its because he genuinely is, and he has no idea how to deal with it.

Tony sighs, deep and dramatic, and rolls his eyes. “You break my heart, platypus.”

_Platypus. Animals now. Really?_

“What the hell does that even _mean_?” James asks, exasperated, but Tony is already sliding away with a grin and a feline smirk, and James won’t bother going after him because the blond woman is already there, waiting to plaster herself to Tony’s side until they can find a more secluded spot to make good on whatever dirty promises they have made to one another for tonight.

And compared to being called _lemonpie_ , James might be a little too tired, and maybe a little too drunk, and maybe the amusement and warm familiarity of Tony’s eyes is so bright and good, that he actually lets that one slide.

**_Four._ **

I mean, it’s fine when it’s just the two of them. It’s not like James expected anything different from Tony freaking Stark.

He’s like that. Give him an inch, he’ll want the whole mile – he loves being self-indulgent.

It’s a little weird, though, when Tony introduces him as his _honeybear_ to his new PA, a small but fierce woman named Virginia Potts.

Because, _really, honeybear?_

James is standing there is his full air force uniform and with impeccable posture, a habit that will take him some time to ease of out after so much time doing it, and _honeybear_ is what he goes with?

“C’mon, man.” James half-heartedly complains, knowing it’s futile to argue now that the words have already left Tony’s mouth, and Virginia Potts is right there, and it would do him any good to start bickering with her boss right in front of her on her first day.

It’s not _actually_ her first day, but it’s the first time James has met her, because he’s been out of the country for the past five months, but he wants to make a good impression, alright? Not his fault Tony has lost all sense of politeness to know he should act like the teenager he still is inside in front of his freaking PA.

Oh, James is going to talk his ear off when they’re alone.

But, surprisingly, Virginia Potts doesn’t even bat an eye.

“It’s ok, I’m used to it by now.” She says, as she extenders her hand to shake his. “Mr. Stark’s brand of humor is harmless, I don’t pay much attention to it.”

“Hey.” Tony says, aiming for an offended tone, but he only comes across as amused. He goes completely ignored.

“Call me Pepper.” Virginia – Pepper – Potts says, and James’ lips quirk into a small smile without his permission.

“Is that his doing too?” he asks, in good humor.

“Unfortunately, no. You can thank my father for that one.” Pepper says, smiling kindly. “But I guess I’m stuck with it now.”

“Good thing it suits you.” Tony says, the words rushed, almost as if they’re stumbling out of his mouth, and when both Pepper and James turn to look at him, he’s slipping his sunglasses back on, averting his gaze, and James knows he’s trying to hide his embarrassment, attempting to disguise his slip as an intentional taunt or provocation.

_Oh._

He’s…

Okay, then.

Miss Virginia “Pepper” Potts. Apparently, she can make Tony Stark get tongue-twisted.

That’s no small feat, and James, of all people, would know.

Her smile is soft and open, and its truthful, which is the best thing it can be, and James feels his chest lighten up with some sort of happiness he can’t exactly describe. He wonders if this will ever work out, between them. If Pepper is interested, or will become interested in the future. Maybe. It’s hard to resist Tony Stark, _especially_ when he’s being himself. Pepper herself doesn’t seem to go out of her way to be unprofessional and flirt with Tony, but maybe that’s exactly what will make it work.

If they do want to make it work. Tony looks like he does. He surely looks very smitten already.

James likes that look on him. He distantly wonders if he should jealousy, but he decides he can’t bother with it. Why would he? It’s… He honestly doesn’t feel jealous about Tony’s relationships. He never truly has. It might be the way their relationship developed, this weird, sort of _too intimate but still platonic_ bond they have, that flows between them with happiness and exasperation and flirty remarks and spite and bickering. Maybe it’s already too close to something other than friends for James to mourn whatever he might lose if Tony ends up with someone else. Because he won’t lose it, not really. He’ll always have Tony. He’ll go along whatever happens between them, because that’s what has always happened and that’s how he likes it, and as long as Tony’s happy in the end, it doesn’t really matter where this road will lead.

So, he’s happy. He’s happy Tony has Pepper Potts now. And Tony is so freaking smitten James truly hopes it is reciprocated, because Tony loves deep and loves hard, and James wants to see that love bloom, if it’s meant to be. He’ll be glad for it.

And some people mind find it weird if they knew, but he won’t mind it.

After all, Tony is still calling him honeybear. James is still Tony’s in a way no one else can be.

 

**_Five._ **

****

No one really questions it. Why would they?

Tony is _eccentric_ , they say. It comes with being a genius, you see. They have all kinds of little quirks, the smartest people.

So no one really assumes anything.

Some people do assume about Tony. James is not sure if they _know_ , but they certainly assume. And they’re not _wrong_ , strictly speaking, because James knows about Tony and his _preferences_ on partners, but still – it’s not exactly polite to assume things about people. No one dares to mention it, not when James is besides Tony, not even when Tony is blatantly flirting with the men just as he is flirting with the women in whatever event or room they might be in.

The thing is – they all assume is a Tony thing, and James just tolerates it. The nicknames. The touching. The in-your-face, obvious flirting.

It might have been like that, at the start. Just an amusing quirk.

But it’s not like that now.

“Was he always like that?” Bruce Banner asks him when they first meet, over a couple of beers and the excited chatter of guests and friends laughing and having a good time.

“Yeah.” James sighs, but it’s all in good humor. “But you get used to it.”

“I kind of got that, when I spent some time with him at the Tower.” Bruce laughs, softly. “He’s very…”

“Crazy?” James suggests.

“Eccentric.” Bruce says, and _there it is_ , the rich and genius adjective, the word everyone uses to describe Tony and they have no idea how accurate it is.

James laughs along, shaking his head slightly. “I tried to get him to stop, but it doesn’t work. So sometimes I just tune it out. By now everyone is used to him, even the guys back at the base.”

“He calls you nicknames in front of your superiors?” Bruce raises his eyebrows, but he looks just as amused as he looks surprised.

“He calls me nicknames on national television.” James says. “But it can’t be any worse than went he introduced himself as my sugar daddy to one of my girlfriends.”

Bruce nearly chokes on his sip of beer, and he’s still half coughing, half laughing, when he asks:

“And what happened?”

“Well, it didn’t work out after _that._ ” James huffs, simplifying. “But like I said, too late to get him to stop.”

“And you don’t mind?” Bruce asks.

At the time? Oh, James had minded. Very much.

But now? Honestly?

He shrugs. “It’s Tony.”

And that’s all he can say about that.

 

**_And one more._ **

 

After years and years, James doesn’t think about it anymore.

It’s just a thing that happens. It’s part of them, James and Tony. It’s part of their lives and their routine, like messing with tech for Tony and filing reports for James, like flying and fighting in iron armors together.

He likes it. He wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Hey, Rhodey.” Tony says.

James is a little distracted. How could he not?

Tony’s hair is getting a little gray on his temples, and also on his goatee.

It’s _distracting._

“Rhodey.” Tony insists.

“What?”

“I’m hungry.”

James blinks. “And what exactly do you think I can do about that?”

“You can come with me to the new Italian place downtown and we can have some of that disgusting pasta you like.”

“In no world _carbonara_ is disgusting.”

“Disgustingly normal.” Tony jabs back, mocking.

“Just because I don’t put three tons of cheese on top of my plate—”

“You don’t talk about my cheese like that—”

“— it doesn’t mean it’s bad. I like it.”

Tony sighs, like it’s painful not to argue back, and gets up and walks up to James with a lazy stride, his tank top rumpled and sweatpants old and soft, and he looks just like he did in MIT, except he _doesn’t._

He looks the same – doe eyes, pouty lips, disgusting and grimy –, but he doesn’t – older, stronger, softer, _beautiful._

“You are wrong.” Tony insists, but it’s so clearly a joke that James doesn’t even bother with replying, merely rolling his eyes. “But since you’re my Rhodey and I love you, I’ll let it slide.”

And he stops, right in front of James, and _looks_ at him.

And it’s _that_ look, the look that says it’s a joke, but not really, and James’ heart, completely forgetting he is an _adult man in his fifties,_ skips a beat, and he feels like a teenager again, meeting Tony Stark for the first time, and being so caught up in his rhythm he has no chance of escaping.

“Oh, really?” James says, smiling.

“Yeah, really.” Tony replies, like the snarky child he is.

“That’s very gracious of you, Tony.” He says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What can I say, I’m a generous person. So, you in?”

_Please, say yes._

“Yeah.” James says, in a soft exhale. “I’m in.”

Tony smiles, his eyes wrinkling and his entire face lighting up in joy, and James’ heart goes wild.

“But I’m driving.” James jabs, and Tony’s smile falls and he makes a face, falsely outraged, and James loves this, loves the familiarity, loves _him._

His Rhodey, Tony said.

Well, he can’t really argue with Tony on that one, can he?

It’s only the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> I just... I just love soft Iron Husbands, alright?
> 
> Come talk to me on my [tumblr](http://machi-kun.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/machi__kun), I'm always happy to talk about these two idiots. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, leaving kudos or bookmarking it! :)


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